December 22nd
by littlebluelady
Summary: He found him in England. Parental!Newt, Credence, and a spice of Tina here and there.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : I couldn't stop myself from writing this. So...this is my first take on a Harry Potter fic. If i get the any of the details of the wizarding world wrong, please kindly tell me so I can fix it. Anyway, please enjoy?**

 **Disclaimer : JK Rowling owns the HP World.**

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Someone was watching him.

Newt knew something, _someone_ from New York would follow him here. He just never expected it to be _this_ soon. By this, he meant nine hours after his dreadful meeting with the ministry, and exactly twelve days after…well after _that_.

"Please come out." Fatigue drained his words from their usual tact, and they came out more as a harsh whisper. Newt was _beyond_ caring. Subtly, he cast his gaze to his sides, deliberately not turning around. _Empty._

"Please," he tried again. Deep inside the pocket of his pants, his fingers coiled around his wand. "I won't hurt you."

The response was a meek cry.

Newt stilled, all thoughts of danger and Grindelwald fleeting from his mind. He turned expecting a fight, but only found shadows slithering and moving in the dark. He thought he saw a familiar face. Someone he knew. Slowly, he took a step forward, whispering a spell— _Lumos_. The wand lit up, and with it the alley.

" _Credence_?"

At the call of his name, the shadow shrunk further. But Newt, with his sharp eyes, had seen his face. Credence, the boy whom he thought was dead, had found him here. In England.

"Credence." Another tinge of disbelief. Newt wasn't absolutely sure how to handle this. Normally he didn't need to talk to the animals he'd come in contact with, animals he needed to calm down. "I am…incredibly sorry for scaring you. _If I—_ " he swallowed, mind reeling. "Back in New York, I told you I wouldn't hurt you. Do you still remember?"

Credence hadn't moved but Newt had. The light of his wand finally reached his face, outlining the hollow of his cheeks and his pale _pale_ face. His lips were blue and shaking. Credence was not ready for the harsh winter of Great Britain.

"My flat is just a few blocks away." He glanced quickly over his shoulders, and when he turned back, Credence was looking at him, afraid but at the same time hopeful. Newt held his gaze. "It's not something I'd brag about but there's hot drinks and a fire to warm you up, I think," he paused again, thinking of how messy and neglected his actual flat was. " _Well_ it's certainly much better than this weather."

Newt pocketed his wand, and then brought the same hand in front of him. An offer of change. Of a new beginning, for the both of them.

Credence's hand was cold as ice, but strong and sure in his grip. A _yes,_ the boy's eyes said. Then, with a small smile, Newt apparated them away, leaving nothing but dusty footprints as a testimony of their encounter.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your response from the previous chapter! You guys made my day!**

 **Disclaimer : JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe.**

Newt tried to make some tea, but the kettle was gone and cobwebs had taken residence inside the only cups he had. He flicked his wand and the kettle floated from a cabinet across his small kitchen. He hadn't bothered to look for it there.

"Credence," he said, glancing at the boy sitting at his ratty old couch. Now hugging Newt's thickest blanket, Credence didn't look so cold. "You can take my bed for the time being."

The kettle whistled. Newt turned, waited for it to pour itself two cups of tea, and then set them down on the coffee table. Credence didn't make a move to take it. In fact he looked like he was struggling to speak.

"Sir, I _can't_ possibly - _I have no right to_ -"

"-Newt, please. And it's alright actually. I won't be sleeping on the floor, or the couch, if you're worried about that."

Credence could only stare, seemingly failing to find an argument.

"Now drink your tea." Newt downed his own. "I've put a charm on it. Should get rid of the frostbites."

He didn't ask questions. He avoided the topic completely, and Credence seemed to appreciate that. Instead, Newt stuck to the mundane things. Like telling him where the washroom was. Or where he could find the glasses if he got thirsty at night. Newt figured Credence would tell it himself when he was ready. If he were ever going to be.

Newt was mid-waist down his case when he stopped and turned to him. "If you need anything, just knock," he said and all the while Credence stared at him. Or perhaps the sight of him, with pure wonder. Newt had to remind himself that this boy, although a wizard _(in a way)_ , had been completely shunned from the wizarding world. The boy had just gotten a taste of what he'd been missing.

"Oh and...be careful. With the bed I mean. It's a lot smaller that it looks. I've lost counted of how many times I've rolled out of bed in the middle of the night," he said. Just before his case closed, Newt heard a sob.

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When Newt got out of his case the next morning, Credence was already up and sitting on his bed. He said good morning, and the boy replied softly, barely looking at him before his eyes drifted off somewhere, deep in thought. Newt didn't bother him. Not until he realised he literally had nothing edible for breakfast.

"I'm going out to buy a few things or two. Do you want to...erm tag along?"

Credence looked at him then. Something flickered in his eyes, then he looked down forlornly at his toes. "I-I'd like to stay, if I may."

He wasn't ready. Newt only smiled, then he grabbed his overcoat, slung the Hufflepuff scarf over his neck, and left his flat.

It was a Thursday, but it was also the 23rd of December. The Ministry took a small winter break, and yesterday was actually the last work day before the holidays. Everyone was busy with their Christmas plans and Christmas presents; he could practically feel the buzz and the holiday spirits when he entered the building. _Everyone-_ well except for Newt. He didn't really have anyone to celebrate it with other than his parents. _And they didn't even know he was in England._

Newt passed by a few food stands and went back with two bags of food. He hadn't planned to buy this much. He hadn't planned to buy for two or for the rest of Christmas break. Newt was supposed to take off to France in five days. But now he had to put everything on hold...for an indefinite amount of time.

Now Newt had a guest to serve and a boy to comfort.

"You said...you've ever met someone like me. Someone with my condition."

It was the first thing he heard when he arrived. Newt hovered by the door, shuffling between the two paper bags in his arms and his keys.

"Yes..." he said cautiously. "She was a Sudanese girl. Her name was Uma." Newt began to unload the fruits but his eyes were trained to the boy, gauging his reactions. "She began to develop the Obscurial when she was three. When people realised she wasn't like them."

Newt didn't tell him that they had the girl chained up, beaten, and tortured. That it was him who freed her and reminded her what human compassion felt like. But even with the sparsity of details, a look of hatred and resentment had settled in the boy's eyes. Newt saw his fists shaking, clenching and unclenching, like he was holding something back. He thought he saw shadows slithering on his shoulders. But what Newt feared didn't happen. Instead Credence only turned his head away, eyes flashing.

"When did she die?"

"Around four months ago," Newt said very quietly. He himself no longer had the courage to look at Credence. "I'd only gotten to know her a few days before the Obscurial took her completely." He paused, breath hitched. "She was eight years old. I'm sorry."

Silence greeted him. Newt waved his wand, pretending to be busy. He didn't turn round, didn't hear anything.

When Credence spoke again, his voice was tired, defeated. Like a man on his deathbed. "Is it going to kill me too? Am I going to be consumed-" He made small gestures to himself. "By this?"

Newt chose his next words very carefully. "I'm not entirely sure myself, Credence. Just the sight of you here is a miracle itself."

"That's what Mr. Graves said."

Newt paused his work. "Normally a person with an Obscurial wouldn't live past the age of ten. It should have killed you years ago," Newt said slowly, finally making eye contact. "But it didn't. If... I may know, exactly how old are you?"

Credence's muscles twitched. Newt must've struck a chord, but he couldn't take back his words. "S-Sixteen," Credence said." I-I think. At least that's how long I'd lived with Ma. She wouldn't tell me my birthday."

He wasn't entirely surprised but his gut still wrenched. Credence's words left a sting in his chest. Newt's parents were far from abusive, and he'd never known anyone with abusive parents. Not...that he knew a lot of people, but to hear the things humans are capable of...

He flicked his wand again, and put the last touches of their breakfast. It wasn't that grand, just some eggs, bacon, and sausages, but Newt wasn't done. He went to a nearby cabinet and found the item he was looking for. He set their plates on the dining table and then when he was sure, _absolutely sure_ he was done, he cleared his throat.

Credence woke from his reverie, probably because of the delicious whiff of food. But the surprise that registered on his face when he saw what Newt had given him, _that expression of hope_ -Newt made sure to never ever forget it.

On Credence's plate is a small lit candle.

"Well, I think it sensible that you have the right to choose your own birthday," Newt said, almost sheepishly. He grinned at his own work. "I-erm don't really know how to make a cake, but two days before Christmas isn't an awfully bad date, is it?"

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 **Cookies for reviews? Cause I'm not entirely sure where this story is going, so...any suggestions or thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Your response keeps me going. Thank you so much guys!**

 **Disclaimer : JK ROWLING OWNS ALL OF THESE. Enough said.**

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Credence opened up like a blooming flower. Like a cat unfurling itself after a deep slumber. The questions began after his little surprise at breakfast, and although they were short and simple, Newt tried his best to answer.

"Can wizards fly, Mr Scamander?"

"With the right apparatus, yes. We have broomsticks, believe it or not."

"What about...time travel?"

"Again, with the right apparatus, yes...Only very few people are allowed to perform it though."

Credence fell into a thoughtful reverie while Newt charmed the plates so that they would clean themselves in the sink.

"Is there...a limit to magic?"

"A limit to magic?" Newt echoed, mulling over the question. Instead of answering, he went about to look for his battered case. When he found it, Newt set it down in front of them and unclasped the catches. A low guttural grow emitted from the deep space within, and the magizoologist looked up to catch the boy's weary if not curious gaze.

"What do you think is inside, Credence?"

Credence didn't seem to expect this as he stammered and fumbled with his words. "I-I don't know sir. M-maybe a room? You did say you slept in there?"

Newt only smiled, and then he climbed inside and disappeared completely. "Careful with the stairs," he said.

Newt trusted that Credence wouldn't have any trouble getting in, so he went to his work station instead. With agile hands, he gathered everything he needed : grubs, seeds, and pellets. A carcass of a goat hung from a nearby rack and Newt unhooked it, set it down, and swiftly cut it into smaller chunks. By then, Credence had settled in his shed and was looking around him in awe.

"Magic has allowed us witches and wizards to achieve infinitely more than we could ever imagine. But there are still boundaries. Or perhaps the right term would be : we've set boundaries to ourselves." Newt slid the meat into a metal bucket and they dropped down in a wet slosh. He gave it to Credence, who accepted without question. He gestured for him to follow him to the doorjamb of his shed, and there, Newt pointed at a line stretching unnaturally in the sky.

"Do you see that? Even the case has its boundaries. See there are things here that are best left undisturbed and untouched," Newt said. "'Mr Graves' or _Grindelwald_ , is one of those who wishes to...destroy these boundaries."

They were both quiet for a moment, only the occasional howl of his creatures filling in the silence. "I'm sorry the first wizard you trusted turned out to be a world-class criminal," Newt said with utmost sincerity.

"He wasn't, Mr Scamander." Surprised, he turned and saw that the boy had a wistful- almost sheepish look on his face. "The first wizard I trusted, I mean."

 _Tina._ Newt's own neck flushed at the thought of THE auror, and he mumbled a soft _Yes, I suppose you're right,_ before clearing his throat. "Come on, now. I think it's time for you to meet another side of the wizarding world."

They stepped outside into the first habitat with Newt in front, leading, and Credence trailing behind him in awe.

"I mentioned earlier that I was a magizoologist. Sometimes, when it's impossible for me to observe a beast at its natural habitat - or if they require special attention that I cannot provide directly in the field, I'd bring them here for a while."

"Like a zoo, Mr Scamander?"

"I think _safari_ is the best term for this, as how the muggles call them."

Newt taught him how to feed and care, although by that he meant making sure Credence was listening attentively to his explanations. Credence didn't have Jacob's charm. He shied away when the Graphorns came and politely declined when Newt told him to pet them.

But when they arrived at the Occamy's nest, Dougal had already climbed down from her nest and was yanking Credence's trousers. The boy's call for help was a nervous yelp that made him more amused than ever.

"Calm down, Credence. She's not going to hurt you. She just wants to be carried." _Because Dougal has a mother's soul. Because she recognised a lost child._

"What if I drop him?"

"You won't. Dougal can take care of herself. _And it's a she."_

Before Credence could protest, the demiguise had settled comfortably on his back. The boy became incredibly still. "You'll be fine," Newt said cheerily and only received a small whimper before he left them to bond.

When Newt came back with his creatures properly fed, Credence had seated himself on a haystack with Dougal cradled in his arms. He didn't look as scared as before but the boy still sent him a pained look when he spotted him.

"I couldn't get her off, Mr Scamander."

"I don't think I can either," Newt said. He earned another look of despair.

It took him 10 minutes to get Dougal back to her nest (he promised her they'd be back again tomorrow), and then they travelled back to his shed.

"Did...a beast used to live there?"

Credence pointed to a large rock in the middle of an Arizona desert, and Newt, whose mind was preoccupied with new information to put inside his book, snapped his attention to this finger. "Frank, the thunderbird," Newt said softly, recalling the fond memories he had with this particular creature. "He was the one who told us you were in danger, Credence. He _saved_ us all."

Later on, after they returned to his flat and had a little break, Credence offered to clean the place up for him. Newt told him not to bother (because they had magic), but the boy insisted, saying, "I'd like to do something in return, Mr Scamander. Please."

So Newt spent the rest of the afternoon working on his manuscript, with the occasional knocks coming from above and Credence asking which was where. By evening, he had added 10 more pages to his draft and a list of ideas and questions he needed to answer. But Newt wasn't ready to return to his flat yet. Instead, he cleared his desk and grabbed a clean parchment from a shelf. He began to write at the top of the page...

 _Dear Ms Goldstein,_

 _Let me first inform you of my safe arrival in England, however, that is not my main reason of writing to you. In fact, you probably would not believe the events that had transpired in these past few days..._

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 **Alright guys! Credence finally got a chance to look inside Newt's case! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Oh, and if I don't get another burst of inspiration, the plot will move faster in the next chapter. See you then!**

 **Any thoughts? Any suggestions?**


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